


Soft

by thefuckistevvs



Series: The Junker's Guide to the Outback [20]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bandaged Sex, Blood, Bruises, Commission fic, Gentle Sex, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Licking, M/M, Massages, Soft sex, These guys are soft okay, romantic sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 00:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11324448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefuckistevvs/pseuds/thefuckistevvs
Summary: A heist went wrong





	Soft

**Author's Note:**

> A heist goes wrong, and Junkrat has to deal with himself.
> 
> HELLO! this is a commission fic for thehandofsithis-blog ! The prompt was for Rat being sad cus a heist went wrong, and Hog having to rescue him and comfort him. My shit, basically. I loved it a lot and thank you! 
> 
> If you are interested in getting a commission for a fic, check my tumblr!
> 
> I hope you guys like it! Thank you for reading!!!

Everything had gone to fucking shit. 

Honestly, there was nothing special about this heist in specific. It was their first in that country, Brazil- but they were _used_ to this kind of things. While they normally had some slip ups there was nothing as bad as this. 

Junkrat planned it- he always plans the heists. He knew he was stupid in many ways but he was good when it came to breaking into places and stealing shit. Like a special talent. He planned it with blueprints, an exit route, even some decoys- nothing should have gone wrong and yet there they were.

At first it was okay, they had managed to enter the bank using his explosives, but soon the policemen were suddenly too many. Junkrat had miscalculated the structure, it was far weaker than he originally believed. The main wall had come down, and they were in full sight of a squad of police officers wearing riot gear.

“Gonna blow ‘em apart!” Junkrat yelled, his frag launcher already pointed towards the police officers. Roadhog made a sound, but Junkrat didn’t bother turning towards him. He shot the grenades, the explosives bouncing up and down the air and exploding, either above or below the police. 

“Ahahahaha!” Junkrat hollered, shooting one more time towards the officers. This time, something changed however. One of the police officers ran towards the grenade, hiding behind his metallic riot shield. The explosive ricocheted against it, and Junkrat saw how the little smiley face was making its way towards them.

His explosives are good. Junkrat knew how much time it took them for explode, and how much manhandling. It should have exploded the moment it slammed against the pig’s shield, but it didn’t. For a fraction of a second he remembered a bomb he made just before the heist, one with some old gunpowder. He remembered shrugging and saying it probably wouldn’t make too much of a difference, before he finished the bomb and shoved it into his bag.

Roadhog said something as the bomb landed at his feet, but he couldn’t really tell what.   
The explosion was weird, too. It was a little bit too powerful and it finished bringing down the building. The next thing Junkrat knew was that he was lying on the ground with something very heavy on top of him, skin burning, ears ringing and body numb. Something hot and wet rolled down from his head and into his chin, his cheek pressed against the cool floor. 

The sound of sirens were audible, but they felt far away with his ears still ringing. Junkrat attempted to move, but his limbs were not responding. He took a deep breath and his chest hurt too, a sharp wet pain in the middle of his ribs. 

_Fuck_ , he thought his mind too disconnected from what was happening outside of his head. This is probably how he was going to die. Trapped under some rubble in Brazil, in the middle of a heist surrounded by cops, bleeding to death.

Not exactly the way he was expecting, but Junkrat guessed it was better than, say, getting eaten by dingos or radiation.

He would have fought more, he would have yelled and screamed and kicked and clawed his way out of it, but his mind was slow. His mind couldn’t process it, and his body was immobile. Maybe he hurt his neck. He remember reading somewhere in a fancy book that if you broke you hurt your neck you would get paralyzed or something. Junkrat contemplated it, and chuckled. Now Roadhog would have to carry him around all the time. 

That would be nice, if it wasn’t that he was going to die. 

Junkrat felt how the pressure in his body lessened, his sore skin being freed from the stones and rubble. He gasped when he felt the cool air of the night, his wounds stinging at it. He attempted to move, but everything hurt so much and his limbs felt numb. Junkrat felt strangely light, and he managed to croon his neck to see his prosthetics completely destroyed, metal jagging at his skin and wires scattered around. 

“Rat,” he heard that familiar voice say. Junkrat smiled at Roadhog, hissing in pain as he felt those two strong hands gently moving him. His body was like limp putty, unable to do a thing as he was handled. 

“Hog-” he managed to get out, his voice hoarse and weak. It hurt to speak, his chest tingling in pain with each breath he took. He didn’t realize how weak his body was until he hung limply on Roadhog’s grip.

“I got you, boss.” Roadhog whispered. He immediately felt safe as Roadhog lifted him in his arms, he managed to press his face against Roadhog’s chest, his sweaty gunpowder scent grounding Junkrat back to reality. 

“Hog-” he whimpered, the reality of the failed heist crashing onto him. Roadhog just grunted, moving them away from there. 

“Hoggie, the heist-”

“It’s okay boss.” 

It was not okay. But he couldn’t do a single thing, being carried away like a useless child. Roadhog must have done something because they weren’t attacked,he must have gotten rid of hte cops or something like that. Junkrat’s head was too heavy to think about it, he couldn’t figure out exactly what was happening, his throat in a knot over the failure of the heist. 

“We need to go,” Roadhog said lowly, gripping Junkrat hard. Junkrat nodded, still pressed against his skin. 

He expected to be lowered into the sidecar, but it never came. Instead Roadhog rode on his bike, still holding Junkrat close, one hand holding him against himself and riding with the other. He felt like a child, and wished he could have more strength to struggle against Roadhog’s grip. Junkrat could still hear the sirens and police cars behind them, but Roadhog made sharp turns. If he had been in better condition, he would be throwing grenades at them, laughing in the wind as they made their getaway. 

And instead he was like this. He bit his lip hard, blood coming out of it. 

His eyes were closed but he felt how Roadhog made many sharp turns, bike screeching in the pavement, the police sirens fading more and more into the background until they were no more. Even so Roadhog kept riding, unstopping until they reached their hideout.

It was where they were going to lay low until the whole thing blew over, after stealing the money from the bank. It was an abandoned house, very out of the way. Far, far away from the city and from the bank, they would lay down for a while and then leave.

Roadhog parked his bike on the outside of the house, crickets chirping around them as he turned it off. He started to get up, Junkrat still on tow. The younger Junker squirmed, trying to get away from his grasp. “I- i can do it meself, let me go, I-”

Roadhog didn’t say a thing, simply holding him close as he stepped inside the house. It reeked like old houses reek, dirt and dust. Roadhog very carefully lowered him on the mattress, like he was made of glass. Junkrat whined at the contact, trying to stand up immediately but it hurt his body. He was far too damaged, unable to do anything but whine and wiggle like a worm. 

He saw Roadhog turning some oil lamps from the corner of his eye, and retrieving a first aid kit from his bag. Junkrat could barely stay awake, being woken by the damp cloth that Roadhog pressed against his wounds, cleaning him up. It stung, and Junkrat hissed but he didn’t make much more noise.

Roadhog was gentle, disgustingly so. Junkrat was used to see the man kill and destroy, he once saw how Roadhog pushed his fingers into someone’s eye sockets, the eye pouring freely like jelly from the skull. That had been a fun day. 

He was even used to roughness and violence when they fucked. It was them, to be violent and to fuck like there was no tomorrow, and Junkrat liked that about them. But now, _now_ Roadhog was touching him so gently, so intimately, his big digits brushing against Junkrat’s bruised skin. It was torture. He didn’t want it. He wanted Roadhog to grab him firm, not to be like… like this. It was too sickly sweet. Too much. It was just too much. 

“Hog,” He whispered, delirious from the previous events, the guilt rising up from his spine and into his throat. “Hog, I’m sorry.” 

Roadhog grunted, and he fell into deep sleep.

\---

The next time he woke it was night as well. His body was bandaged, and while it still hurt to move it hurt far less than before.   
He tested the waters, wriggling and feeling the faint sting.

When Junkrat looked around he saw no one however, no Roadhog. He bit his lips, his mind already jumping into several conclusions (did he leave? Was he caught? Did he finally decide to abandon Junkrat?) when Roadhog came through the main door. 

“...” He stared at the now awoken Junkrat, closing the door behind him without making a noise. 

“Hey Hoggie,” Junkrat giggled, but Roadhog didn’t say a thing. He got close to Junkrat, sighing as he took the young Junker’s flesh arm on his hand, examining it.

“I’m doin’ fine,” Junkrat said, cheeks burning. He took back his arm, embarrassed. “How long has it been?”

“Three days.”

“Oh, fuck. Shit,” Junkrat felt even more like shit. Roadhog must have tended to his wounds all this time. “No, er, news?”

“No.”

Roadhog remained quiet, examining Junkrat’s wounds in silence. It was unbearable… gentle, and Junkrat couldn’t stand it. He wanted to wiggle, and wanted to get away out of shame but he couldn’t even do that, his entire body still hurting too much to just get up and run away. 

When finished, Roadhog got up and got into the kitchen of the place. There was a bag with groceries in it, Roadhog picked two soup cans from them, opening them with a knife. He fished two spoons, and went back to Junkrat, shoving one of the soup cans at Junkrat. 

He grabbed it, using his stump to hold the can against his chest, his left hand picking the soup with the spoon and eating it. It was cold, but it was better than the shit they used to eat back at the Outback.

Roadhog pushed his mask up a bit, his lips showing as he ate the soup as well. They ate in silence, the metal spoon clinking inside the can.  
It wasn’t normal. Junkrat normally would chatter and talk about whatever random thing popped into his head, but he felt too ashamed to do so. He didn’t even dare look at Roadhog.

He finished the soup, placing the can next to the mattress, on the dirty floor. Roadhog finished his as well and placed his can next to Junkrat’, pushing his mask down. 

“You’re silent,” Roadhog finally said after more excruciatingly quiet minutes. “You’re not silent.”

“Well,” Junkrat said, squirming in place and still feeling the ache of his bones. “Maybe now I’m silent! Maybe I changed. Ya don’t know.”

“Something bothering you?”

Yes. But Junkrat wasn’t just going to _say_. Instead he squirmed in place, not saying a thing. 

“You upset about the heist?”

God damn. Fucking pig, why was he so good at reading him? What fucking right did he have?

“It fuckin’ blew.” Junkrat looked at the dirty sheet covering his body, his fingers playing with the nasty fabric. He felt judged by him. “I made tha’ plans and all, and it should’ve work- but it didn’t! It got busted! It fuckin’-” He slammed at the mattress with his palm. “I fuckin’ blew it up!”

Junkrat clicked with his tongue. “It was an easy one too! We’ve done this shit ton of times! And fuckin’- I fucked up, Hog! And got fucked up!” He looked at his stump, angry and red. “Got me fucked up…”

“It’s okay-”

“It ain’t bloody okay! We was- we was gonna-” He gripped at his hair with his fist, pulling at it hard. “We could be playin’ with it now! Showerin’ in it! Throw it off a cliff and into tha’ city! But instead we’re ‘ere because I fucked up!”

“Junkrat,” 

“It’s all me bloody fault!”

He kept pulling at his hair, curling into himself. He pulled at it, hairstrans already ripping from his skull. His teeth were grinding against each other, jaw hurting as his muscles locked up. 

A large hand very gently grabbed him at the shoulder, another one pulling his bony hand away from his hair, softly circling the back of his palm with his thumb. Junkrat tensed, finally lifting his face to stare at Roadhog’s eyes. 

“It was a mistake. Mistakes happen. It was bound to happen.” He wrapped Junkrat’s hand with his massive palm, bringing it close to his mask. 

“Ya aren’t upset?” When did this happen? Junkrat was the one that paid Roadhog so he would protect him, and now he was so concerned over what the man thought about him. The thought of Roadhog being upset terrified him, and not in the ‘oh he is going to kill me’ way, but in a more different, stranger way. 

“No,” Roadhog pushed off his mask so his lips showed, getting Junkrat’s palm near his lips. He could feel Roadhog’s hot breath on his skin. “Why should I be?” 

He pressed his thick soft lips against Junkrat’s palm, and it made him sigh softly, cheeks red. It tickled him, from outside to his insides, the way Roadhog just softly held his thin wrist.   
It was soft and compassionate, something that Junkrat felt he didn’t deserve. He wasn’t made for compassion, he was made for violence and threats. 

“From all the heists we’ve done, this is the only one that has gone wrong.” He twisted Junkrat’s hand, now kissing the meat of his palm. Junkrat inhaled sharply, closing his eyes at the intimacy. “You’re so smart, boss.”

Junkrat chuckled. The way he said that, ‘boss’, it made him squirm and melt in his hands. He went from kissing his hand to kissing his wrist, slowly trailing up to starting to kiss Junkrat’s shoulder, and neckbone. His hand scooped his head, massaging his scalp. 

“You’re okay, boss.” He whispered into his skin, and Junkrat moaned into it. “You’re incredible. You’re a genius, Jamie. You’re so fucking smart.”

Maybe Junkrat couldn’t trust himself, but he could trust Roadhog. Roadhog was smarter than he was. Roadhog was better than he was. If someone as amazing as Roadhog, and as beautiful as Roadhog thought he was good…  
Then maybe, just maybe he was good. 

He giggled, his face pressed against Roadhog’s shoulder. He wanted to cry, if he was a little bit honest. Roadhog was too good for him, always there, always ready to make him feel like he was a good man. 

He felt Roadhog’s meaty palm softly caress his thighs, massaging his stump. His fingers traced circles around the scarred meat, and Junkrat leaned his head back to let out a moan. Roadhog traveled down, soft kisses with his soft lips on his belly, hipbone and his thigh. 

“So good, boss,” he whispered, hands massaging Junkrat’s tense nerves on his stump. It felt so good. Junkrat laid on the bed, back arching and hands gripping on the mattress underneath. He made soft noises, moaning as Roadhog kept massaging him. “You’re so good.”

Junkrat covered his eyes with his stump, laughing like a little child. While Roadhog massaged his stump with one hand, the other ran up and down his other thigh. It brushed against Jamison’s boxers, over the tent forming already. Even if he was bandaged and bruised, he still felt as if it was his own skin, adding a layer for intensity to the movements of Roadhog’s fingers.

“God,” He whispered, hips involuntarily bucking up. Roadhog placed a gentle kiss on the main scar of the stump, and Junkrat just melted. He let out a needy sigh, as Roadhog grabbed his arm stump. 

He kissed at it softly, fingers digging into the nerves and applying a massage as well. Junkrat couldn’t resist, his good arm hooking behind Roadhog’s neck and shoving himself to his mouth. He kissed hungrily at him, desperate for touch as Roadhog continued to massage him. It was intoxicating, and Roadhog very gently pushed him against the mattress, holding him close with his two meaty arms and pressing him against himself, as if he didn’t want Junkrat to disappear. 

“You feeling good, boss?”

Junkrat knew Roadhog was trying to cheer him up. He knew that when he called him boss in that context it was different than when it was normal, it made Junkrat’s crotch lit, his insides softening as he kissed deeply. “Got rid of the one that threw the grenade at you.” 

“Oh?” Junkrat smiled, bucking into Roadhog’s frame. They were still dressed, but the grinding of their pelvis almost made him moan. “Ya shot at him?”

“Hooked him up, like a fish.” 

“Aha,” His breath hitched as Roadhog started to pull down his boxers, fingertips brushing at his growing erection. He bit his lip, wiggling so it was easier for Roadhog to pull them away. “W-what would I do with- heh, my bodyguard?”

“You’re my boss,” Roadhog softly said against his ear, hand pressing against Junkrat’s dick. “I would be nothing without you.”

Junkrat exhaled loudly, holding unto Roadhog like dear life. He kept rubbing at him softly, his free hand pulling down his own pants while still close to Junkrat, never letting him go. 

“Don’t say that,” Junkrat whispered. “I’m the one that ain’t damn a thing without ya, hoggie. I ain’t”

Roadhog pressed Junkrat even harder against him, and it even hurt his bones a little. It was strange, Roadhog was possessive but this was… different. It had a different, more desperate feeling against it, the way Roadhog pushed his mask completely off and kissed at Junkrat’s neck desperately. 

His hands gently pressed against his back, running his finger down his spine and caressing it delicately. Roadhog kept exploring him and his side, his muscles, every bone on his brittle body like he was paid to do it. It made Junkrat feel embarrassed, being petted like that, soft and beautiful, like Roadhog loved every little inch of him. It was true, and a part of Junkrat knew it- as skinny and annoying and malnourished as he was, Roadhog truly loved him for some reason. He didn’t understand. But he truly did.

And this time it showed, the way he kept tracing his feature and kissed him, the way he whispered to Junkrat assuring him he would always be there, the way he simply held him close like only the two of them existed in the universe. It was special.

Then it hit Junkrat like a bag of bricks. Roadhog had been worried. Roadhog was worried that he almost died. Roadhog wanted him there, clinging to him in the fear that Junkrat would just die.

“Oh,” He whispered, and Roadhog just rubbed him in every spot, kissing him gently and desperately, hungrily, not wanting Junkrat to ever go away. He wanted him there, and Junkrat could do that. It was the one thing he could do, be there for Roadhog no matter what. 

Junkrat’s heart beat hard against his chest when Roadhog extended his arm, grabbing something from beside the mattress. It was a bottle of lube. Junkrat would have laughed, but he was far too busy being held warmly, kissing at Roadhog’s strong jaw. 

He actually didn’t see Roadhog do it, just felt his thick finger already pressing against his own hole. Junkrat giggled, shaking in anticipation as he nibbled at Roadhog’s lip.

“Come on come on come on come on Hog, come on, come on please,” He felt the finger breach him and he shuddered with pleasure, mouth open as Roadhog licked his jaw. “Please please Hog oh god, please, please please,”

The finger was pumping inside and out, then turned into two. It was more gentle than normal, Roadhog still worried to accidentally hut Junkrat. It was sickeningly sweet. “Please, Roadhog, oh fuck.”

“You’re so pretty like this,” Roadhog muttered, the knuckles of his palm softly caressing Junkrat’s side, from his chest to his belly to his untouched cock. It left a fiery trail on his skin, leaving him wishing for more. Roadhog just continued to touch him, fingertips caressing his nipples and ribs, kissing the freckles on his sweaty chest, still bruised and tender. Junkrat did not mind. “You’re so beautiful, boss.”

“Mmm, I-” He couldn’t speak, pleasure overwhelming him. He rocked his hips, until one big hand kept them in place, tender touch. “Fuck, Mako, I-” 

He continued to pet him, caressing him softly and rubbing fingers on his frame. “Beautiful.” He kissed Junkrat’s nipple. “So lucky my boss is so pretty. Got me such a pretty thing, I did.”

“Y-yer th-the pretty one, Oh, god,” Roadhog fully inserted himself on Junkrat, his hips blush with Junkrat’s ass. They both moaned at the warm tightness, a familiar feeling and yet still lovely. “Oh, god please, Mako, oh fuck.”

“It’s okay boss,” he whispered, slow rhythm as he fucked into him, still close, so close Junkrat thought they would fuse. “You’re so fucking good, boss. So fucking good to me. You’re just so fucking- so fucking good, boss.”

“I-” He couldn’t say anything else. It was too much. He whimpered, tears spilling from the corner of his eyes out of pure pleasure, his sore muscles crying out due to the movement, but he didn’t care. It was a good hurt. It was the hut he craved, the one that made him feel alive. 

“Don’t leave,” Roadhog whispered, his hand pressing Junkrat’s scalp against him. “Don’t leave, boss. Don’t leave me.”

“Okay,” it was the only thing Junkrat managed to say, before going limp into Roadhog’s arms, he was Roadhog’s lifeline, his anchor, his everything. And so Roadhog was Junkrat’s, his ground. His everything. 

His Roadhog.

Junkrat wasn’t a romantic, or at least he didn’t think he was. And yet, it was like Roadhog was made for him. Or maybe he was made for Roadhog? Whatever the case, they were made for each other. Like pieces of a puzzle. Like those sappy songs he sometimes find Roadhog singing to himself, from before the omnium blew up, about how everybody got a soul mate, how there was someone that was for him, and how he was for someone. That was Roadhog. For him. And no one else. 

It melted him, did things to him, things he never expected to feel. Things that he never was taught about, the way his stomach went cold, the way he felt his fingers twitch thinking about him, the way his cheek burnt at the thought of Roadhog simply touching him. 

It was… Junkrat had no words, no words for what he did to him. It wasn’t sex, this. Even as Roadhog moaned in his ear, his thick dick shoving inside and out of him, hitting his prostate- it was something else, not just sex. It was something that wormed inside, that kept there and took place.

And now he knew, the way Roadhog held him lose while whispering soft things, that he had the same effect on him. That same intoxicating, beautiful effect. That he loved him.

That thought made Junkrat come. He let his mouth open, hips locked up as he came between them, Roadhog kissing the corners of his lips. 

Roadhog pulled out, still not done, but rubbed his thick cock against Junkrat’s white thighs until he came himself, softly petting Junkrat’s hair while doing so. It was a beautiful feeling, and they both clung to each other for a while. 

Eventually, Roadhog picked another gros blanked that was beside them, using it to clean the mess. His touch was gentle, and Junkrat sighed happily against it. He saw Roadhog toss the dirty ruined sheet, wriggling on the mattress to keep Junkrat close and protected, his arms around him. He wouldn’t let go, it seemed. Good, Junkrat liked that. 

He kept pressing soft kisses against Junkrat’s neck, and he let him. It wasn’t long until they both fell asleep, Roadhog holding him and Junkrat knowing that he was safe from everything as long as he was with Roadhog. 

And Roadhog would be there for him, forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! I hope you enjoyed it!!!  
> [My Tumblr!](http://whatthefuckistevvs.tumblr.com/)  
> [My Twitter!](https://twitter.com/thefuckistevvs)  
> Hit me up if you want to talk about prompts!


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